


We Happy Few

by ChiefWampus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Heavy Swearing, I used the word pussy twice if that bothers you you're not gonna like this, M/M, Obscurial Harry Potter, Obscurials (Harry Potter), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, this is.... really weird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-07-19 19:46:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiefWampus/pseuds/ChiefWampus
Summary: Look, Angel isn’t stupid.He knows he’s technically somewhat adopted; knows he’s not biologically related to any of the other people at the compound, hell he even knows his real name isn’t Angel. These were facts he learned at a very young age, and it’s not like anyone at the compound has been anything but completely honest with him.In which, Angel is your average Obscurial bastard who finds out that not only is he the famous missing Harry Potter, but that fate has been fucking with him since before he could walk.





	1. We Familial Few

**Author's Note:**

> Ight look
> 
> I know that this is the kind of trope that you read fics about just to laugh at the Mary Sue OCs and bad characterization but you know what? This fucking story has been stirring in my head for 3 or 4 years now and enough is enough. That being said, this is an incredibly self-indulgent fic that I don't expect too many people to enjoy but it's all good cuz my mind knows no peace at this point and I have to get this out of my head

_ “Angel duck!” _

****

“Duck?”

****

“Goose!”

****

Before he can figure out whether or not he wants to laugh at his sister’s incredibly stupid but impeccably timed joke, Angel is skidding across the floor and landing in a not so graceful heap against the wall.

****

“Ouch.” He says.

****

“Sorry!” Karen says, jogging over and not looking sorry at all, “Overshot it I guess.” She shrugs with a grin. Definitely not sorry then.

****

His better sister, y’know the one who  _ doesn’t  _ slam into him using brute force (sometimes), offers him a hand that yanks him up quickly, “I mean she was right there,” Nina says, brushing off imaginary dirt from his shoulders, “Maybe your observation skills need more work than your combat skills.” She muses with a poorly concealed smile.

****

Angel narrows his eyes at the both of them. Damn, maybe he doesn’t have a better sister. The only two that he has apparently like to throw him across rooms and laugh about it. Maybe he should get Cozmo to wear that dumpster wig from last halloween and make him his new sister.  _ He _ probably wouldn’t throw his brother into walls and then laugh. Yeah. Good plan.

****

“You distracted me with the whole duck thing,” Angel says walking over to where his water bottle is placed, “Why the hell would you say duck? Just say move.”

****

“Literally the same thing but alright.” Nina states, stretching her arms back.

****

“It’s okay if you’re getting a little rusty dude,” Karen says bouncing over to him to claim the water bottle beside his, “You know when people get older, they say that eyesight is the first thing to go.”

****

“You’re six months older than me.”

****

“Details.”

****

Angel snorts as he takes a swig of his water, “Also, I’m like, eighty-two percent sure you cheated just now,” He sends a pointed look at her hands, “Pretty sure disillusion charms aren’t allowed during PT.”

****

Karen scoffs in annoyance, “That’s such bullshit! I worked hard trying to get that spell down, you know how much I was struggling. Why can’t I use it during combat?”

****

“Because those kind of spells are used for simulation and strategy practice Karen, there’s a time and place for it.” Nina says while continuing her stretching, “You know that.”

****

“Okay, but I had a good reason for it.”

****

Nina raises an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

****

“I really wanted to win.”

****

Nina nods solemnly, “Understandable.”

****

“Uh no,” Angel cuts in glaring at both girls, because honestly  _ what the fuck _ , “Not understandable. I got slammed into a wall because Karen decided to break a rule that she definitely knew she was breaking. Karen loses, I win by default.”

****

“That’s lame.”

****

“Yeah don’t be a sore loser Angel.”

****

“I’m not a- wha- you threw me into a fucking wall!” Angel exclaims, gesturing to Karen wildly.

****

“Man you’re really hung up on that wall part.” Nina hums.

****

“Okay,” The boy says clutching his bottle and heading towards the door, “I’m gonna go to my room and pretend that the last fifteen minutes didn’t actually happen, and that I actually have sisters that don’t throw me into walls because they cheat in combat.”

****

“What a boring scenario.”

****

“Right?”

****

“Goodbye!” Angel calls before exiting out of the gym’s double doors.

****

Heaving a heavy sigh, the boy begins the never ending trek down the compound hallways, feet moving on autopilot. He remembers a time where these hallways seemed like endless loops, incredibly confusing to his four-year-old brain. He was a different person then. Not quite Angel but not really his original self. Caught in the middle of feeling grateful for being rescued from his old living situation, and angry at the whole world by default.

****

Angel only has a few memories left from those times when he was first brought to the compound, and none of them particularly vivid. He remembers things like snapshots; his first time eating with his new siblings, his first time meditating with them, his first time being named.

****

_ “You look like an Angel y’know,” Karen said, spilling juice everywhere in her attempt to talk and drink at the same time, “Did you know that’s a boy’s name? Well sometimes.” _

****

And Angel, only four and with no memory of ever being called anything other than ‘kid’ or ‘bastard’, had thought it was the greatest name he had ever heard.

****

So suddenly he was Angel, a boy with seven loud siblings, a soft bed to sleep in, a never ending supply of food, and a brand new label to live with.

****

Obscurial.

****

Of course he knew he was never a regular wizard to begin with, he’s known that since he was little and first felt that rushing dark sensation in his veins. He just never really had a name for it until Doctor DaBora came to his broken down foster house, sat him down on the old moth eaten couch that he was never allowed to sit on, and offered him a better alternative.

****

At the time he wasn’t too worried about being an Obscurial. To be fair, he still wasn’t  _ entirely _ sure what it meant. He just knew that he was one, and so was Doctor DaBora, and so was almost everyone at her compound. But the Doctor was offering him a place to stay, and she hadn’t tried to hit him not one time during the whole conversation. So he said ok.

****

Now that he’s older he knows better. Knows the difference between being a regular wizard and being an Obscurial. Knows that just saying that word can still a conversation and make people go ridgid with fear. But he also knows that there’s a lot of misconceptions surrounding it, and that he and his siblings are some of the  _ least  _ threatening people that this world has to offer. So if his shitty childhood has taught him anything, it’s that he’d be damned before he lets bad people make him feel like a monster.

****

“Hey.”

****

Angel comes to a stop before looking around for the source of the voice, “Brick?”

****

“Shush shu shu shuh,” The voice hushes quickly, “They can’t know I’m up here.”

****

Yeah definitely Brick, “Are you in the vents again? Coach is gonna kill you.” Angel says leaning his head back, “Who’re hiding from?”

****

“Coach is in a meeting with the Doc, she’ll be occupied for a while,” There’s a shift from above him, “I put shaving cream in Cozmo’s pillowcase, like a lot of it, and I’m chilling up here ‘cause I know he’s gonna kick my ass.”

****

“Nice.”

****

“I know.”

****

“You know you’re going to have to see him later anyway right?” Angel asks, crossing his arms, “We have training at six.”

****

The sound of an elbow hitting metal echoes through the hallway. “Shit, I forgot.”

****

Angel snorts, “We literally do it everyday.”

****

“Shut up I was distracted! Hey are you going to the kitchen?”

****

“No I was heading up to my room, sorry.”

****

“Aw I was gonna ask you to grab me some chips while you’re out in the open,” Brick says, “But it’s chill. My body can withstand the test of hunger.”

****

Angel raises an eyebrow that he knows won’t be seen by the other boy, “What are you going to do when you have to pee?”

****

“Let nature take its course. Duh.”

****

“Gross,” Angel states unfurling from his stance and continuing down the hallway, “See you at six.”

****

“Bye Angel!” Brick yells, seemingly forgetting about his situation, “Aw shit.”

****

Before he makes it past the doorway that leads into the communal living room, the last thing Angel hears is a very loud  _ “Found you bitch!”  _ followed by muffled screeches.

* * *

It’s easy to forget just how big the compound really is. Once when he was younger, he would curl up in the safest corner he could find, put his head between his knees, and pretend that he was in a sealed up box. Not afraid of the open space but of the many angles that someone could come at him from.

****

He remembers when his brother Homer had the same kind of problem. He wouldn’t find a corner though, he would hide under the bed they all shared when they were younger and wrap himself up in every blanket available, convinced that the cloth would protect him from harm. It took them a long time to get him to come out when he got like that, but he always eventually came out. It was around that time that Angel and his siblings really started to learn how to lean on each other.

****

He stopped once again on his journey to his room when he spotted his remaining three brothers seated around the coffee table in the living room, “What are you guys doing?”

****

Three heads whipped up to look at him, “You know how Doctor Finkler is giving out extra credit for an extra curricular assignment of our choice?” Po asks, shuffling cards around, “Well I’ve decided to use my natural talent and give tarot reading a try.”

****

“He’s really bad at it.” Homer states.

****

“Okay hater, you’re getting a free card reading  _ and  _ a free palm reading so keep talking shit.”

****

Issac, who is probably the biggest instigator Angel has ever met, cackles, “It’s ok Po, you’re doing great. Tell Angel what you saw in my cards.”

****

Po pulls a face, “I don’t wanna.”

****

“He said,” Issac laughs, dodging Po’s fist, “He said “be careful with future romantic endeavors” and I was like, with who?”

****

Homer laughed too, “And then he was like-”

****

“Shut up!”

****

“This man really said-”

****

“Angel!” Po says, grabbing the boy’s wrist and pulling him down, “I’ve just decided that you’re my new favorite brother and you should totally let me read your cards.”

****

“Wow okay, fuck you.” Issac says.

****

Angel shrugs as he situates himself on the carpeted floor, “Sure, just don’t like, predict my death or anything. I want it to be a surprise.”

****

Po snorts, “No promises.”

****

Angel watches as his brother shuffles the deck once more, and his brain starts thinking about names again. Po and Nina are the only ones in the family who had a birth name to keep. Angel supposes it’s because they’re the only ones that Doctor DeBorah found still living with their birth parents. He remembers asking them once why they kept their old names instead of making new ones. Nina said she wanted her old self to be her better self. Po didn’t answer. Angel still wonders why.

****

The boy lays out his freshly shuffled card deck on the table and starts drawing cards. He lays them flat against the tabletop in straight neat rows before looking back up at Angel, “Alright flip ‘em.”

****

Angel does. There’s a Ten of Swords, Nine of Swords, The Moon, Ace of Cups, and Death.

****

“Hey,” Angel says, narrowing his eyes at the cards, “I thought I said no death.”

****

“No no no no wait, maybe this is a good thing,” Issac says squinting at the cards, “See all this water? Maybe it’s saying you’re gonna drown in pussy. And then die.”

****

“Wow, amazing.” Angel says drily.

****

“Death doesn’t actually mean death anyways,” Po states, fingering through his reference book, “It just means like, death of a phase or whatever.”

****

Homer laughs, “Is that your professional opinion?”

****

“Shut up.”

****

“Why is this one upside down?” Angel asks, pointing to The Moon.

****

Po looks at where Angel is pointing and lights up, “Oh! That means like, release of fear and stuff, and uh,” He flips through his book again, “Repressed emotion.”

****

“So what’s it all mean then?” Homer asks.

****

Po sets his book down and peers at the cards once more. After a minute or so he looks back up at Angel with a smirk, “Are you ready for my official prognosis?”

****

Angel rolls his eyes, “Lay it on me.”

****

“Okay so,” Po says pointing to the first card in line. Ten of Swords. “This is your past. It basically just means that something big and crazy hit you in the past and kinda effed you up.”

****

“Yeah, it’s called foster care.” Angel says.

****

“Facts.” Says Issac.

****

“This one,” Po continues, “Is your present. And like I said, death doesn’t just mean death, it’s just the end of a situation.”

****

Angel just nods.

****

“Right here is your future, which is just that release of fear stuff,” Po says before tapping on the next two cards, “And these are your reasoning and potential.”

****

“That one’s upside down too.” Angel points out.

****

“Yeah, so that basically just means that the reasoning for all of this is because of your inner turmoil and deep-seated fears.” Po says.

****

“Are you psychoanalyzing me?”

****

“No the cards are,” Po grins and taps on the last card, “This one is your potential like I said. It just means you’ll let go of baggage and start living your best life,” He says waving a hand in the air, “It can also represent a miracle.”

****

“So basically,” Issac says, leaning back against the couch, “Because Angel had a messed up childhood, he’s finally gonna go through his emo phase and release all of his negative energy by letting go of his past and becoming a nun.”

****

Homer hums thoughtfully, “I’d watch that movie.”

****

“Yeah, I’ll keep you guys updated,” Angel says, rising from his seat on the floor and walking toward the stairs.

****

“Please do!” Homer calls, “Alright Po, my turn. I’d also like to drown in pussy, please and thank you.”

****

Angel huffs out a laugh before trekking up the staircase leading to the bedrooms.

* * *

He doesn’t exactly expect the upstairs living quarters to be occupied, so when he reaches the top and sees Doctor DaBora, perched on a chair with her ankles crossed, he’s surprised. 

****

It wasn’t often that anyone but him and his siblings were found upstairs in the bedrooms. Doctor DaBora had always had a very unconventional way of raising them. They could basically say what they want, do what they want, and ask whatever is on their minds, so long as they did their school work and did well in training. This turned out to be a win win situation for everyone, since the children loved being allowed independence, and in turn, excelled in everything they were expected to do.

****

Angel knew that he and his siblings were allowed certain liberties that other children did not. After all, not many children were allowed to name themselves. One of the biggest advantages they had was having the upstairs rooms to themselves. Doctor DaBora was very firm on her belief that he and his siblings needed an area away from the rest of the compound that only they could enter.  _ Personal space _ , she had said,  _ I would never seek you out if you didn’t want to be found. _

****

So if Doctor DaBora is up here, breaking her own rules, something’s up.

****

“Hello Angel.” She says in that beautiful raspy voice of hers, “Will you sit down?”

****

He does. He sits in the chair closest to hers and searches for anything in her expression that could clue him in to what this conversation is about. Like every time, he finds nothing. “Is something wrong Doctor?”

****

The Doctor’s smile is faint but fond, “Not exactly. I suppose it all depends on how you take this news.” She hums.

****

Angel used to think the Doctor was part of the Divine. Everything about her, since the first time he met her, has always been so graceful and unyielding. He used to think that it was only because he was young, and she was the first kind person he met, but even now, nearing the age of sixteen, Angel knows that it’s just her.

****

He’s heard lots of stereotypes about Obscurials being ugly monsters with no real defining features or personality, and thinks that Doctor DaBora, with her stunning beauty and all encompassing spirit, proves all of those rumors wrong.

****

“What is it?” He asks.

****

In a slow deliberate movement, the Doctor pulls an already opened envelope from the inside of her robes, “I have no reason to put this off any further,” She presses the envelope into his awaiting hand, “Take a look.”

****

With one last curious glance in her direction, Angel pulls the letter out of the envelope and begins to unfurl it. The first thing he sees is three names, then their birthdates, some numbers, and then his eyes trail up to the big bold letters on the top of the page.

****

**_Paternity Test_ **

****

Angel stiffens and his eyes bypass the rest of the words on the document to settle on the last few lines.

****

**_Blood Test Results for ANGEL (LAST NAME UNSPECIFIED)_ **

****

**_Alleged Mother: LILY POTTER (nee EVANS)- Positive_ **

****

**_Alleged Father: JAMES POTTER- Positive_ **

****

**_Identical Match to (Deceased) HARRY JAMES POTTER Confirmed_ **


	2. We Arguable Few

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So they know that I’m..?” Angel trails.
> 
> “An Obscurial?” DaBora finishes.
> 
> “Yeah.”
> 
> “I don’t think they particularly care,” The Doctor remarks, recrossing her legs, “But yes, they do know.”
> 
> Angel shoots her a skeptical look, “How do you know? That they don’t care, I mean.” He asks.
> 
> “I think they’re just thrilled to know that their long lost child is safe and sound.” She pauses, “They’re very insistent on meeting you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I updated lol. Just want to say thank you to everyone reading this, I realize it's a very obscure kind of fic but there's some of you who actually like it so that's pretty dope :)

Look, Angel isn’t stupid.

He knows he’s technically somewhat adopted; knows he’s not biologically related to any of the other people at the facility, hell he even knows his real name isn’t Angel. These were facts he learned at a very young age, and it’s not like anyone at the compound has been anything but completely honest with him.

But the thing is, he  _ feels _ like Angel. He  _ feels  _ like a part of the underground top secret organization he’s been fighting in. He feels like the awkward middle child that he knows he is; the same kid that rolls his eyes at his brother’s stupid jokes, and lets his sister braid his hair, and who is secretly the one eating all of the chocolate ice cream straight from the container.

And you know what? He doesn’t need anyone to tell him otherwise. So what if these people are actually his parents? He’s been doing just fine without any real parental figures in his life, thank you very much.

But still, it’s not like it’s their fault he was raised this way. He’s heard what happened that night when Harry Potter saved England from their Dark Lord, how the curse rebounded and killed Voldemort, while the one-year-old vanished. The Potters were in anguish, having been knocked unconscious while their son was attacked just upstairs. They searched for years, and not just them either, the whole British magical community searched for the little boy who had saved them all, and found nothing.

Until now.

Angel finally tears his gaze from the parchment and settles back on Doctor DaBora, “So how long have you been putting this off?”

The Doctor smiles faintly, “For as long as it took me to figure out if it was true.”

“And you didn’t let me know about all of this because..?”

“Angel,” The Doctor says, only slightly stern, “You and I both know there have been many people that have come forward claiming to be the parent of some of you children. I had to be sure.”

She’s right. Although they were few and far between, there had been times where people claiming to be of blood relation to any of the children within the compound came forward, and every single time they were wrong.

Angel knows that the Doctor was only thinking of the boy’s best interest, she wouldn’t have kept this information to herself just for the hell of it. She didn’t the possibility of him being Harry Potter swimming in his head when there was a very good chance it wasn’t true.

But it is true. And that’s the part that freaks him out.

“I have so many questions that I don’t know how to phrase.”

The Doctor gives a chuckle at that. She settles herself more comfortably on the couch and crosses her legs, placing her clasped hands on her lap, “Do your best.”

Okay. Well, “If I’m Harry Potter, how the hell did I get to Boston?”

DaBora smiles once more, “That’s a very good question Angel. Magic is a powerful thing, as you know, and it’s just as unpredictable,” She tilts her head slightly in thought, “I have a few theories as to why you were transported so far, and so does Professor Dumbledore, but as far as anyone else knows we’re just not completely sure.”

“Professor Dumbledore?” Angel asks, “Like, Albus Dumbledore?”

“Precisely,” The Doctor says, “As you know, he played a very crucial role in England’s fight against Voldemort. He also has very close ties with the Potters.”

There’s a slight edge in her voice that Angel is shocked to hear. Usually the Doctor speaks highly of her colleges or people she’s associated with, and from what Angel can tell, Professor Dumbledore is a highly regarded wizard, “Why don’t you like him?”

The Doctor’s face was carefully blank now, “I don’t dislike Albus, but we do have different opinions on how certain situations should be handled,” She pauses, then states clearly, “I do ask that you keep him within arms reach.”

Sensing that that’s all he’s going to get out of the Doctor about that particular subject, Angel moves on, “So. The Potters.”

The Doctor’s grin is not as faint, “The Potters.” She repeats, “We’ve spoken a lot. I’ve told them as much about your living situation as I can without revealing any deep secrets.”

“So they know that I’m..?” Angel trails.

“An Obscurial?” DaBora finishes.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think they particularly care,” The Doctor remarks, recrossing her legs, “But yes, they do know.”

Angel shoots her a skeptical look, “How do you know? That they don’t care, I mean.” He asks.

“I think they’re just thrilled to know that their long lost child is safe and sound.” She pauses, “They’re very insistent on meeting you.”

Angel nods and looks back at the parchment. The dark bolded  **_confirmed_ ** mocks him, “Will I have to live there? What about school?”

“You won’t  _ have _ to do anything if don’t want to. You have options, darling, you’ve always had options.” The Doctor says.

“So I could just…. Stay here and forget about all of this?”

DaBora’s smile is soft and somewhat sad, “You can, yes.” She rests a steady palm on the boy’s forearm, “You could also choose to live there. They have schooling for you, should you choose to pursue it. You could also live partly here and partly there. There are many options we can explore.”

Angel nods. It’s quiet for a moment until he lifts his head back up to speak to the Doctor again, “What do you think I should do?”

The Doctor is silent, but her gaze on Angel is intense. She lifts the hand that was still resting on her lap to press against the side of the young boy’s face. The Doctor touches rarely, it’s just not something she does often, but that just makes all the times she does more sweeter. 

When Angel was little, he remembers getting hurt in one of the first training sessions they ever did. It was a minor injury, but to a little boy who had been shocked and scared of the power that was released from his body, it felt like the world was caving in. He remembers sitting in the med bay while the Doctor ran her steady hands through his mop of hair, and feeling like the safest person on the planet.

She finally speaks, “I have never told you what you should do, and I never will,” She says gently, “This is something that you will need to decide for yourself. But there are no wrong answers.”

Angel breathes slowly and tries to think of the right thing to say anyway, “Can I have more time to think about it?”

DaBora smiles again, “Child, you have all the time in the world.”

* * *

By the time Angel reaches the gym for afternoon training, they’re already stretching.

He skids in and places himself in his usual spot before assuming the stretching positions that everyone is in, “Thanks for waiting assholes.” He breathes.

“We thought you died,” Po chirps, bending down to touch her toes, “We were gonna celebrate after.”

Karen snorts from his other side, “We both know Po wouldn’t be happy if you died. He’d have no one to coat-tail off of during sparring.”

Brick curses softly from behind him, “Shots fired.”

“There’s no shame in coat-tailing,” Po protests, “Fake it till you make it. I’d rather do that than get my ass handed to me by Nina as soon as I’m in the line of fire.”

“But it’s fine if it happens to me?” Angel asks.

“Hey you said it not me.”

Angel is about quip back when he spots something flying at him from the corner of his eye. He catches it just in time, hissing at the impact, and looks down at the object that was hurtling towards him, which turns out to be a whole ass  _ quaffle _ .

“Coach,” Angel starts, “What the  _ fuck _ ?”

“Language,” Coach Selwyn has the nerve to say, while walking over to where he and his siblings are stretching, “Why are you late Angel?”

“Doctor DaBora wanted to talk.”

“Ah,” Coach says, straightening Homer’s leg absent-mindedly while staring Angel down, “So no extra laps today?”

“‘Fraid not.” Angel states.

“Damn,” She says, like the hypocrite she is, “What a shame. You know I like seeing you kids squirm.”

Cozmo turns his head from where he was shooting glares at Brick to address the coach, “Ma’am, you are a psychopath.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” She replies with a shrug, moving back to the front, “Hope you kids are ready to dance, got a lot of work to do today.”

There’s a few groans and one or two sarcastic cheers from the group, and Angel has to smother a laugh. He knows that nobody actually hates training sessions, but it’s always fun to pretend to be bothered by it. Like any of them actually had other things going on.

Coach isn’t actually a maniac either, despite her teaching methods. He remembers the first few training sessions they all had together, and how frustrating it was to not be able to control the absolute power that festered within them. There were many sessions that ended less than successful, and many times where one of them would have some sort of episode.

But they grew stronger because of those sessions, and Coach was always telling them that. She never treated them any different because of their Obscurial status either, always regarding them as growing adults but understanding that they’re only human. Whenever there was trouble following a command or understanding a spell, she would help diffuse the tension by throwing in games within the lesson; letting Angel and his siblings feel less like weapons and more like the kids they were supposed to be.

And she never made the lessons about being the toughest people around either. Coach was a firm believer of strength in all aspects. He still remembers being a little boy, sitting cross legged on a yoga mat, following along as the Coach led them through breathing exercises.

_ “Mental strength is one of the hardest things to obtain,” She’d said, breathing steadily, “Your mind is what feeds your body, and your body is the vessel. If you kids only learn one thing from me, it’s how to be the master of your own mind.” _

* * *

After training, Angel wants nothing more than to eat his weight in spaghetti and pass out in his bed. So he sets out to do just that.

“Hey Angel,” Karen says sliding up to him and linking her arm with his, “Don’t you feel like making your favorite sister some food?”

“Good idea Karen, tell Nina I’ll make her a plate.” He smirks.

“Yikes.” Cozmo snickers.

“Alright, I get it,” Karen says nodding and detaching herself from him, “Just don’t come crying to me when I make those bomb ass walnut brownies again, ‘cause I’m not giving you shit.”

“I went into anaphylactic shock last time you made those remember? That’s how we found out I’m allergic to tree nuts.” Angel says quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I bet they tasted great while you were dying.”

Angel snorts and fishes out the ingredients to make his spaghetti, “True. I’m making dinner for everyone anyway, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

There’s multiple cheers from the other occupants in the kitchen, and Cozmo narrows his eyes, “Woah, not that I’m complaining, ‘cause like, free food,” Angel rolls his eyes, “But what’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Angel says, “Just don’t want to hear you babies complain about how you’re starving later because you only had a granola bar and a bag of chips.”

“You are a benevolent man Angel,” Brick salutes from his seat on top of the counter, “Thank you for your service.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Brick grins.

The sound of plates crashing makes all of their heads whip around to face the sink. Homer is there staring at the cluttered stack of dirty dishes that finally decided to fall. “You people are animals.” The boy states, pointing to the debris, “I’m not cleaning all this up by myself! Somebody better grab a fucking broom and help.”

The group snickers but help him anyway, and suddenly Angel is reminded again why he doesn’t really want to contact the Potters. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see them, or form a relationship with them, or even just let them know that their long lost child is okay, it’s that for the past eleven years he’s built this family out of nothing. When he was in foster care, he had no one to care about and no one to care for him, and now, with his dysfunctional family full of psychopathic coaches, homicidal sisters, and idiotic brothers, it feels like he has everything.

But they deserve to know about it anyway, so he decides to let them in on the secret.

“So, uh, me and DaBora were talking about some stuff earlier.” He says to the room as a whole.

“Really? I thought you guys were just chilling upstairs smoking the rest of that weed I had lying around.” Issac says.

Nina elbows him sharply in the side, and smirks as he yelps, “We noticed,” She says directing her attention to Angel, “Must have been pretty serious if she was up in our room.”

“It is kinda,” Angel says truthfully, “But not like, life threatening or anything, don’t worry.”

“So what is it?” Karen asks, propping her head up on her fist.

Angel hesitates, and immediately feels bad about it. This is his family, they deserve to know about this, and didn’t he bring it up for their advice anyway? “She said she found my biological parents.”

“Oh my g-”

“ _ Dude  _ are you serious?!”

“Fuck, I dropped another plate.”

“Are they crackheads?”

_ “Issac!” _

“What? It’s an honest question!”

“No they’re not crackheads,” Angel says, trying to control the situation, “I mean, I don’t  _ think  _ they are-”

“But they could be.” Issac says.

Angel huffs in frustration, “No, they’re not crackheads.” He says definitely, “Are you happy?”

“Not really.” Issac states, crossing his arms.

“There’s no ulterior motives, if that’s what you’re worried about. DaBora told me they just want to see their son again. She did a DNA test and a background check, everything is legit.” The green eyed boy says, matching Issac’s posture.

“So who are they?” Homer asks.

Angel shifts nervously, “Uh, Lily and James Potter.”

There’s another uproar.

“No fucking way dude,” Brick says, eyes as wide as saucers, “You’re that baby that killed a Dark Lord?”

“That’s what the DNA test said.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Po asks.

“Probably nothing.” Angel says. He sighs and leans his back against the counter, “Look, we’ve got a mission coming up soon, and fall classes. I’m not sure if I should put my whole life on pause just to meet some people I don’t even know.”

The room is silent for a minute. The air is charged but no one seems to want to break the silence.

Suddenly, Karen speaks up, “Well, I think this could be a good thing.”

Seven sets of eyes land on her and she huffs, “What? You guys saw the news articles. The Potters really sounded like they were missing their son, they seemed genuinely upset.”

“Karen we don’t  _ know _ that for sure or not, we’ve just seen what they put out in the media,” Cozmo says, waving a hand, “I agree with Issac, if they’re not crackheads, then there might be something else going on.”

“I don’t know,” Karen says still not convinced, “I think I would check it out anyway. Man I would  _ kill _ to meet my birth mother, I’d have so many questions.”

Angel felt guilt creep into his bones. Karen had always expressed the desire to meet her biological family, and suddenly he felt ashamed for wanting nothing to do with his

“What did Doctor DaBora say you should do?” Homer asks softly.

“She said I have to make my own decision, but there’s no wrong answers.”

Issac rolls his eyes fondly, “Sounds like Doc.”

“Maybe we should vote on it.” Angel suggests.

Po shakes his head, “We’re not talking about chore distribution Angel, it’s your life, we can’t just vote on that.”

“I’m not about to make a decision this big without your guy’s input. This is too important to not have a family vote.” Angel says firmly.

His gaze sweeps over every occupant in the room once more, “Okay. Who here thinks I should get in contact with them?”

Four separate hands raise up at different paces, and Karen turns to glare at the other three, “What the hell guys?”

“What? You want me to let Angel contact these people who may or may not be using him for their own personal gain? Come on Karen.” Issac says.

“Yeah, I’m not just gonna let my brother walk right into that.” Cozmo says.

Homer, who is the only other person who didn’t raise a hand, looks around the kitchen and his eyes land on Angel, “I want to say yes,” He says softly, “But only if you can promise that it’s safe for you to meet them.”

Angel’s heart melts, and he is so fucking thankful for his family, “I can’t really promise anything,” He says honestly, “But I know that Doctor DaBora wouldn’t have told me all this if she thought it was a bad situation. I trust her, and she trusts them.”

Homer nods, and tilts his head thoughtfully. After a few seconds his hand joins the other’s in the air.

“Ha!” Karen says triumphantly, “See? Homer trusts Angel, why can’t you guys?”

“We  _ do  _ trust Angel,” Cozmo says as Issac nods along, “We’re just rightfully concerned.”

“Dude, there’s a whole DNA test and everything proving that this is legit,” Po says, arm still firmly in the air, “Shit’s not fake. I think it’s worth checking out.”

Cozmo groans and buries his face in his palms. After a minute or two of silence he jerks his hand in the air wildly, “Alright, fuck it. But if you need to bury some bodies, I’m only free on Tuesdays.”

“What!?” Issac exclaims.

“It’s over Issac, come on, this could be a good thing.” Karen says.

“Yeah bro, let him spread his wings.” Brick says briefly lowering his arm to form butterfly wings with his hands.

“No, absolutely not, are you guys crazy? How many times have people come forward trying to get something out of us by claiming to be our parents huh? And how many times did it all work out? I’m telling you this is bad new-”

“Issac.” Nina says steadily.

Everyone’s eyes shoot over to where she’s seated, one hand pointed directly upward. It’s not uncommon for Nina to be silent during these kinds of debates, that’s just her nature. She’s the oldest, the firmest, and quiet in a way that counts. When she speaks, people listen.

“I know this is a scary topic,” Issac opens his mouth to protest but she quickly cuts him off, “This has never happened before. Every other time people have come forward it’s been fake. But there’s a positive DNA test, multiple background tests have been done, and these people are approved by Doctor DaBora herself.” She directs her gaze back to Angel intently, but continues to address Issac, “Let him do this, if it doesn’t work out, then he can just come back to his real family.”

The group waits with bated breath as Issac’s face morphs into frustration, fear, anger, and finally resignation. His hand slowly rises to meet the other’s, “Alright, whatever.”

Karen and Brick high five as Issac whips around to face Angel, “If those people give you even  _ one _ bad vibe hit us up, ‘cause I’m kicking ass.”

Angel rolls his eyes, unbearably touched and a little bit emotional, “Aye aye cap’n.”

“Alright great!” Po says clapping his hands, “This has been an emotional roller coaster; but my blood sugar is low, and if I don’t eat something in the next five minutes I’m going to kill everyone in this room!”

And just like that, the tension is broken. Food is served and everyone goes back to their usual dynamics, and just like every other day, dinner is a circus. Angel doesn’t know why he was worried it would be any different.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWEAR I'll have some Harry&Lily&James interactions soon (probably in the next chapter) Thank you for reading!


	3. We Departing Few

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel has used portkeys plenty of times in the past. He and his siblings use it every time they go on missions in other countries, and sometimes they use it to avoid flooing accidents. Needless to say, he’s been using portkeys ever since he was old enough to go on missions, but that still doesn’t mean he’s ever gotten particularly good at it.
> 
> So yes, he stumbles when they reappear at the other location. He would’ve fallen too, had it not been for two strong arms that catch him before he meets the ground. Before he can thank the person for catching him or even look up to see who it is, he’s caught in a bone crushing hug.
> 
> He tenses, feeling the sharp tang of magic lick up his spine. He’s about to lash out against the person trapping his arms down when he hears the mystery person’s voice sob in his ear, “Oh Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys wus poppin
> 
> Sorry it's been a while, this chapter has been mostly done for a while now actually but it took me forever to wrap it up and also proof read lol
> 
> That being said, I'm still not too happy with this chapter and I'm sure it's LITTERED with mistakes lol but I hope you guys still find some enjoyment anyway.

Angel is too old to be holding hands.

But he’s not going to tell Karen to let go, obviously. She’s always been very tactile, and it wasn’t unusual for her to give hugs or initiate any sort of contact. So when he approached the designated portkey area with his siblings in tow, hands sweating and heart racing, he wasn’t surprised to feel his sister’s small hand linking their fingers together.

All of his siblings are here, and Doctor Finkler, along with Coach Sewlyn, have also made an appearance.

“Hey kid,” Coach says, placing a hand on his shoulder. She’s been unusually quiet the whole trip over, and Angel wonders if it’s because she’s nervous like him, or just trying to keep up a casual facade, “How you feelin’?”

“I’m alright.” He lies. It’s not that he’s scared or anything, but he is a little anxious about meeting these people that supposedly already love him to pieces. The thought of them meeting Angel and him not living up to their expectations is suffocating.

Coach nods and pats his shoulder twice before pulling away, “You know, I’ve got family in England.”

“Really?” Angel asks, surprised. It isn’t often that any of the adults in his life share personal information such as this, and he’s intrigued.

“The Sacred Twenty-Eight,” Doctor Finkler states from his right, adjusting his glasses, “Very ancient lineage. One of the first magical families to ever walk the face of the earth, their bloodline is based in England.”

Angel isn’t surprised that Doctor Finkler showed up to see him off, but he is still touched. Finkler is an eccentric fellow in all the best ways, not cocky or brash, but brilliant and easily excitable. He’s the only other teacher that DaBora employed and taught every subject imaginable. Ever since they were young, he and his siblings were told that they could never safely attend any proper wizarding school, no matter how much they begged. DaBora explained that the instructors there had no idea how to properly handle and teach an Obscurial child, and that it was safer for everyone involved to attend classes at the compound instead.

And it was. Doctor Finkler was an exceptional instructor anyway, and with only eight students in a class, Angel got all the one-on-one advising he ever needed.

Class was fun with Finkler anyway, and they were always doing projects of some sort. The man was a firm believer in hands on instruction, and with eight hyperactive and potentially destructive children, that seemed to be the best teaching method.

So no, Angel and his siblings never had a conventional education either, but it was all for the best, really. They had hands on instruction that benefited them greatly, and no other average wizards and witches were put in harm's way by being in the same classroom. Although, when they got older, DaBora told them that they were stable enough to attend a wizarding school should they still want to. They had denied, choosing instead to keep to their regular schooling, but they did still have heated discussions about what house they’d all like to be sorted in.

“Very fascinating Doc,” Angel says, and then tilts his head back toward Coach, “So how’d you get to Boston?”

Coach shrugs, “Lots of the big twenty-eight colonized elsewhere. That’s just what they did back then.”

Angel nods, never really knowing what to say regarding old pureblood history and their low-key kept destruction.

“How much time do we have left?” Homer asks.

Coach checks her watch briefly, “Not long. Doctor should be coming out any minute now.”

“Great,” Issac grimaces. He’s still not too happy about the plan, still convinced that the situation is a lot more dangerous than it actually is, “Alright loser, guess now’s as good a time as any to give you your gift.”

Angel furrows his brow in confusion, “Gift?”

“Yeah,” His brother says, reaching in his back pocket and extracting a pea sized object. With a casual wave of his hand, the item enlarges itself to fit in Issac’s palm.

Angel takes it with a raised eyebrow, “A conch shell?”

“Not just any conch shell,” Issac smirks, gesturing at the shell in his brother’s hand, “Put it up to your ear, dude.”

With a still confused and slightly suspicious look, Angel raises the shell to his ear and waits.

Issac gives an exaggerated eye roll and raises his hand to his own ear, miming a telephone, _“Talk.”_ He mouths.

“Hello?” Angel says, feeling incredibly stupid.

“Oh hey,” Brick’s voice sounds out from the shell, and Angel whips around to stare across at the boy who is speaking to a shell identical to his own, “Is this _Pizza Hut_?”

Angel gives a delighted laugh, and Issac looks pleased with himself, “Pretty cool right? My idea, Po’s spellwork. But, y’know, it was mostly all me.” The older boy says.

“Ahem.” Brick says over the line.

“Oh yeah,” Issac says, “And Brick found the conch shells.”

“You’re welcome!” Brick shouts, moving the shell from his face.

“Thanks you guys,” Angel says, refusing to let himself get emotional over a fucking seashell, “This is really dope.”

“And you’ll call every night?” Nina asks. There’s something in her tone that implies that it’s not a question he can say no to.

“Duh.”

Cozmo comes up and throws an arm around his neck, ruffling his hair, “We’ll get Coach in on it too, have her read you a bedtime story over the line.”

Coach, who had moved off to the side with Doctor Finkler in order to give the kids more space, snorts, “Only if Finkler breaks out his harmonica for a bedtime song.”

“Sounds wonderful children.” Finkler beams, not realizing the joke. Sometimes their teasing sort of flies over his head, but it’s honestly just endearing.

The cracking sound of Doctor DaBora apparating outside fills the air, and they watch as she makes her way towards them. Karen’s hand tightens in his hold.

“Are you ready?” DaBora asks, stopping in front of him, “It’s about that time.”

Angel nods slowly and turns to his family. Now that it’s time to go, he doesn’t actually know what to say. They’ve never really spent this much time apart from each other, and never this far away. He’s still not even sure how long he’ll be gone; the test trial could last anywhere from a week to several months. Angel isn’t sure if he even wants to try to be there that long.

“I’m gonna miss you guys.” He eventually says, looking down at his shoes.

Suddenly he is wrapped up in many arms, Po hugs his right side while Brick maneuvers around Karen to hug him on the left. Homer tackles him from the front and Issac claps a hand on his shoulder as Cozmo ruffles his hair again. Nina places a kiss on his cheek, and Karen’s hand is still heavy in his own.

“We’ll see you soon dude,” Po says, breaking away to stubley wipe at his cheek, “Just don’t blow anything up.”

“Unless it’s someone looking for a fight, then by all means blow them up.” Cozmo grins.

Usually Nina would give him a smack for saying something like that; in front of DaBora no less, but she’s more focused on Angel, “Please be safe.” She says softly.

“I will.” Angel promises.

Karen, who has been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time, finally speaks up, “Is it too late to take back my vote?” She smiles shakily, looking up at him for the first time that morning.

“A little bit yeah,” Angel smiles back, giving her hand a squeeze.

Karen nods, somber but resolute. She pulls her hand away to throw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Angel hugs back, burying his face in her shoulder in an attempt to stave off tears.

When they pull away, Doctor DaBora is watching them with a proud and soft look. She gestures at him to follow her farther into the field, “This way.”

As they start their trek towards the middle of the open space, Angel tries to pull himself together. He’s too old to be acting like this, he’s fifteen damnit. This isn’t the first time he’s been away from them, and it won’t be the last either. Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye, even if it’s a temporary separation.

“Ready?” DaBora asks once they make it to the right spot. She’s holding out their portkey, a worn out sneaker from the gym closet.

Angel nods for the fiftieth time today, and grabs a hold of the sneaker. The last thing he sees before they get transported away is his family in the distance, hands waving high.

* * *

Angel has used portkeys plenty of times in the past. He and his siblings use it every time they go on missions in other countries, and sometimes they use it to avoid flooing accidents. Needless to say, he’s been using portkeys ever since he was old enough to go on missions, but that still doesn’t mean he’s ever gotten particularly _good_ at it.

So yes, he stumbles when they reappear at the other location. He would’ve fallen too, had it not been for two strong arms that catch him before he meets the ground. Before he can thank the person for catching him or even look up to see who it is, he’s caught in a bone crushing hug.

He tenses, feeling the sharp tang of magic lick up his spine. He’s about to lash out against the person trapping his arms down when he hears the mystery person’s voice sob in his ear, “Oh _Harry_.”

Suddenly there’s another pair of arms encasing him from the other side. Both pairs of arms are tight and warm, and Angel supposes to any other person it might feel safe; loving even. To him it just feels smothering.

He finally wiggles around enough to be able to lift his head and locks eyes with the human in front of him. The first thing he notices are the square glasses that encase the man’s hazel eyes, eyes that hold an alarming amount of unshed tears. The second thing he notices is the wild locks of hair on the man’s head, the same color and texture of Angel’s.

Ripping his gaze from the man, Angel turns to the woman beside him. She is undeniably beautiful; all flaming red hair and porcelain skin, with startling green eyes that are the exact same as his.

Oh. This must be the Potters.

They’re staring at him with a sort of awed intensity, and Angel knows he’s probably supposed to say something. The thing is, his throat has never felt so dry, and he’s pretty sure his brain has short-circuited.

Doctor DaBora clears her throat from behind him, saving him once again for the uptimth time in his life, “Mister and Miss Potter, a pleasure to see you again,” She says with a polite smile, “If you don’t mind, I believe it would be best to continue this reunion at another location.”

Angel finally takes in the space around him and realizes that they are in a yard much similar to the one surrounding the compound, but held none of the fond memories that Angel had of the one at home.

The man, James, Angel recalls, shakes himself out of his stupor, “Of course,” He says, grasping his wife’s hand and holding out his other to Angel, “The house is just up here, not too far.” He chuckles wetly.

Angel stares at his hand until the Doctor places a hand on his back and leans down to whisper in his ear, “It’s alright.”

She sends an apologetic smile to the Potters and gestures forward, “After you.”

The man looks dejected, but smiles softly back and turns to guide them to the residence. Angel suddenly feels like the world’s biggest asshole. Like, come on, it’s only been five minutes and he’s already fucking this up. He should’ve just sucked it up and grabbed the poor guy’s hand.

They all tread up the hill leading to the Potter’s residence in silence. When they enter, Angel is surprised to find that he actually likes the place. He wasn’t expecting to hate it or anything, but he wasn’t sure how he’d enjoy living in any environment that wasn’t littered with dirty laundry and crappy pasta art made by his siblings. The house is clean, but it isn’t cold; instead it gives off a welcoming atmosphere that Angel can appreciate. It’s warm, comfy. It feels like a home, he supposes.

They seat themselves at the little dining room table across from the kitchen; chairs scuffling quietly. DaBora picks up the conversation once more.

“I’ll be brief, since I’m sure you two would like to continue this in private,” The Doctor says, and Angel is relieved by her straightforwardness, “I’d just like to make sure we’re still on the same page about a few things.”

The couple nods their heads from across the table, “We understand Doctor, whatever you need to ask,” Lily says. She tears her loving gaze from Angel’s face to briefly throw a grateful look in DaBora’s direction, “And _thank you_ Doctor, again _._ ” She says.

DaBora gives a tiny smile, “Of course. As we discussed before, schooling and any other magic lessons are a topic that I’d like you to include me on should your son decide to partake in those things,” She says, cutting straight to the point, “I also ask that you continue to allow any safety measures I’ve put in place to monitor his safety and well being.”

The couple nods once again, but Angel notices that it seems a little forced this time. He supposes they must feel a little irritated that the Doctor would insinuate them allowing him to be in harm's way, but what did they think she was going to do? Just drop him off, and let there be radio silence?

“I also ask that you continue to keep your son’s past and living situation at the compound a secret. As you know there are many people in the wizarding community that still hold…. Disdain towards Obscurials.”

Angel waits for the flinch that’s bound to flash across the husband and wife’s faces. It never comes, but their faces do grow a little tighter in seriousness as James nods solemnly, “Of course, that’s not anything for us to tell.”

It’s the same response that DaBora had given him when he asked if she had told the Potters about his time in foster care. For some reason, this makes something well up in his chest, and he clenches his fists underneath the table to distract him from the strange feeling.

The Doctor gives one last nod of finality, and finally cracks a genuine smile, “Excellent. I’m glad he’s in good hands.”

As it’s all wrapping up and DaBora starts heading out, Angel is suddenly struck with the realization that once she leaves, he’s on his own. His hands start shaking, and he forces himself not to latch onto her like an octopus when she bends slightly to hug him tight. He’s not a baby. He can handle this.

Once DaBora pulls back, she caresses his face softly with the back of her knuckles, “Please be good child. I’d hate for anything to happen and have to send Karen out as a search party.”

Angel lets out a startled laugh that he hopes doesn’t sound too wet, “Goodbye Doctor DaBora, I’ll- I’ll see you later?”

She smiles softly, “You will.”

And just like that, she leaves out the door. Angel watches as her figure walks the winding path back to the port key area, and disappears out of sight.

The teen takes a second to steel himself, and turns back to face the couple, his _parents_ , once again. For the millionth time in his life, he tries to teach himself how to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's chapter 3! Honestly surprised I've made it this far in this fic, this started off as just kind of an indulgent thing (and it still is) but I'm glad to see that some other people are enjoying it and that's awesome :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed if you didn't then I'm sorry to hear that. Btw don't @ me for not knowing how paternity tests look I've never been on Maury


End file.
